


Touchdown Turnaround

by InconvenientBrilliance



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: ABO dynamics, Canon what's Canon, M/M, Post TftBl, also eventual lovey dovey shit, eventual Siren!Rhys via science, eventual return to a body for jack, hologram Jack (to start), hopefully some sexy stuff one day, violence/blood/gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InconvenientBrilliance/pseuds/InconvenientBrilliance
Summary: Transported to a cavern lined with eridium, Rhys isn't sure whether to be more surprised at his steadily declining physical state or the re-emergence of hologram Jack. It doesn't take long for Rhys'  siren abilities to manifest as his body is pushed to the edge. Why does he have siren-like abilities? How is he going to get the hell out of the cavern? Why the hell can he touch Handsome Jack? And more importantly, why is Jack starting to look a little more physical and a lot more invested in Rhys?





	Touchdown Turnaround

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS. I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while; I have like.... an idea of where I want it to end but I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to get there because planning things is for REAL AUTHORS and I'm just mucking around in a fandom I can't seem to get enough of lately! Much like my first foray into Hannigram, I would definitely love any thoughts or feedback (and I mean on like...everything from tagging this stupid thing to things you might like to see). Anyway, lemme know what you think!

_‘Hey, kiiiiiiddo. Wake up, cupcake! Rise and shine, princess!’_

Groggy, dizzy, and altogether feeling like garbage, Rhys woke up. Or rather, he bolted upright with a strangled cry that echoed ominously in what was apparently some type of cavernous room. He could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest, fear and disorientation his initial sensations upon awakening. Rhys scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and searching in the dim lighting of the cavern.

“Hello?! Is anybody there?” His voice echoed stupidly back at him and, frustrated, he realized that he’d probably just alerted anything and everything that might want to eat him that he was there. The former Hyperion janitor turned CEO turned meat suit turned “traitor”, turned CEO again, froze his cybernetic eye searching for movement in the dim chamber. Crouched, Rhys scanned the room. He determined quickly that the light he saw emanated from the walls; veins of eridium lined the room, glowing gently from nearly every direction. After a few tense moments during which he received no response to his question, Rhys stood and warily took in his surroundings and tried to recall where he might be and how he might have gotten there.

He remembered Gortys opening the vault.

He remembered the Traveler.

He remembered violence and adrenaline and his hands on the warm loot chest.

He shuddered and frowned, his flesh-and-blood hand running through thoroughly mussed hair. He could remember entering the Vault; walking up stairs and approaching the most beautiful loot chest he’d ever seen (which had conveniently disappeared sometime between opening it and him waking up) and he remembered walking the steps with Fiona.

His head jerked backwards suddenly as though he’d been electrocuted. How had he managed to forget he hadn’t been alone when this nonsense had all started? His eye had already confirmed that he was alone in the immediate vicinity but that didn’t stop him from yelling for Fiona until he got tired of hearing his voice echoed back to him. Lips pursed, Rhys set about pacing the room in the hopes of seeing something that his perfect cybernetic eye had somehow missed.

The dimensions were similar to those of the late and still douchey Vasquez’s office without the tacky displays of power. Huge, vaulted ceilings lit by the same veins of eridium that lined the walls assured him that there was no way he was climbing out of wherever he was. His hand reached out to trace the veins in the walls, and he was surprised to find them smooth and eerily warm to the touch. Visibly disturbed he quickly withdrew his hand and wiped it on pants that definitely needed to be washed. By the time he had made his fifth circuit around the room (785 steps from the spot on the wall that looks like a lop-sided middle finger per each circuit) he was quite certain that he was fucked.

“Okay. Okay. Okay okay okay okay what we are not going to do. What we are not going to do, what we are absolutely _not_ going to do. Is freak out. Right? I mean we can figure this out. We can 1 million per-cent figure this out.”

“Of _course_ you can, Rhyses-Pieces! In fact, with my help, we’ll be out of here in no time!” Rhys screamed and the echo was somehow more piercing than the sound itself as he whirled in place and saw that he was no longer alone. In all of his hazy blue, not-quite-there glory stood a man Rhys was certain he was done with when he’d literally removed his eye.

“Handsome Jack? What…What are you,” 

“Aw, you missed me!” Rhys couldn’t seem to stop himself as he backed up and away from the holographic terror that was grinning and stalking towards him. Within steps Rhys was backed against the wall and Jack was getting closer. Rhys shrank against the wall as Jack cornered him, arms forming a prison on either side of his head and-

“Hey wait hold on you can’t touch me, Jack.”

“Maybe not, princess, but I sure as hell can annoy you from here. Did you think you’d really gotten rid of me? When you pulled out your damn eye?”

“Yes! In fact, you were gone! You’ve BEEN gone, Jack!”

“Ah ah ah, HANDSOME Jack, buddy, it’s HANDSOME- Look, we both know that Pandora’s got some weird shit going on with it. Are you honestly all that surprised to see me again, cupcake?”

No, truthfully, Rhys was not at all surprised to see Handsome Jack standing in front of him again. But how was that even possible?

“HEY I am TALKING TO YOU.” Jack waved his hand through Rhys’ head, startling Rhys from his (brief) thoughts.

“STOP it Jack that’s just so WEIRD-,” 

“But you’re not LISTENING to me, Rhysie, and it’s making me ANGRY.” Jack waved his hand through Rhys’ head again and without thinking, Rhys raised his arms and started to shove Jack away.

“Listen Jack, I-,” And was stunned to silence as his hands made contact with a physical body. His jaw dropped, eyes widening as Jack stumbled backwards and away from him with the movement. Some desperate part of him was hoping that maybe, just maybe, Jack was fuckin’ around with him; caught Rhys’ gestures and anticipated the movement and backed up to mess with him. The look on Jack’s face, however, already told him how wrong he was.

“Do that again, Rhysie.”

“I…I don’t…,”

“Do. That. Again. Rhysie.” The deposed CEO ground out, moving closer to Rhys with each word he spoke.

“Do-Do what, Jack?” The hologram was back in Rhys’ personal space and just as Rhys asked what as obviously a stupid question, Jack’s fists were slamming into the spaces at each side of his head, locking him in once again against the wall.

“Push me,” Rhys blanched and was somehow able to shrink further into the uncomfortably warm walls behind him. “Touch me. Jesus kid I haven’t been touched or been able to touch anything in fuckin’ forever now PUSH ME DAMN IT.” The man started violently waving his hands in front of, and through, Rhys’ head again and before Rhys could think about it his hand shot up and grabbed Jack’s forearm.

Both men stood motionless, both staring at where their arms were connected. Rhys in abject, absolute horror, and Jack in fury and delight and some other unnamed emotion. For quite some time, neither person moved. Jack brought his other hand up, eyes locked with Rhys’, and appeared equal parts frustrated and confused when his hand went through Rhys’ cheek. Jack glanced to where Rhys still held his hand and back to where his own holographic hand was hovering above Rhys’ face.

“What kind of skag-licked, slag-eating, bandit-exploding-,” Rhys seemed to be completely ignoring him and Jack’s face began to contort with something like rage before Rhys’ opposing hand, the one not holding Jack’s arm, came up to mimic Jack’s. Rhys brought his hand to rest on Jack’s cheek, neither man fully knowing how to respond to this development. 

“Your cheek-,”

“Your hand-,”

“It’s warm.” They mumbled simultaneously. All at once Rhys pulled away and slid out from behind Jack’s holographic cage, eyes wide and unbelieving.

“No, Rhys, get back here,” Jack whined, following him as Rhys stomped back towards the center of the room. The only thing he hadn’t done thus far was try analyzing the small pile of what looked like rocks in the center of the room and, honestly, he was just about willing to do anything to get away from Jack.

“Jack I’m going insane. I am actively LOSING my MIND and I’m just going to ignore you because there’s no way this is actually happening right now.”

“Which part; the part where I’m back or the part where you can freaking touch me, cupcake? You’ll have to elaborate a little.” Rhys tried to ignore the definitely dead CEO but was unable to stop his own high-pitched whine and sigh as Jack continued to try and jump into his path.

“I dunno, Jack, how about all of it? Now will you kindly SHUT UP so I can try and figure out what the hell is going on? Thanks for that.” Jack huffed and stomped after Rhys, mimicking Rhys as the thoroughly rattled newly-turned vault hunter squatted near the small mound of rocks.

“You want me to stop talking so you can…stare at a pile of rocks.” Jack was sarcastic and loud and Rhys tried to ignore him as best as he could as he turned his cybernetic eye towards the pile of rocks. He was hoping for something magical to be hiding in those rocks; some entrance or exit or something that would tell him where he was or, more importantly, how to leave.

He frowned.

“What’s wrong, princess? You look upset. Are your rocks not special enough?”

“No…no, it’s my eye; it’s not reading these things properly. It’s…I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t even have the words to describe what I’m seeing here, Jack. If it wasn’t so confusing it would be beautiful…”

“Rhysie what the hell are you saying? It’s. Just. A Bunch. Of stupid. Rocks.” Jack kicked fruitlessly at the pile in front of him for emphasis between each word. “How could they possibly be more interesting than the fact that you can ACTUALLY TOUCH ME. I mean, come on kiddo, isn’t that like…your ultimate fantasy or something?”

Rhys flushed, skin going pink around the edges of his black neck tattoo.

“Jack-You-You,”

“Yes, that’s right buttercup I’m Jack now put your damn hands on me.” Rhys leapt up from where he’d been crouching, teetering momentarily as the blood rushed to his head and his leg threatened to cramp up, before regaining his footing. He turned, glaring with an intense look of what he hoped was anger but was more of a pout, and pointed an accusatory finger at Handsome Jack.

“You LITERALLY cannot and SHOULD NOT be here, Jack! The last time I saw you, you were begging for me to let you live-,” Jack was suddenly directly in front of him, eyes glittering in their intensity.

“Listen here, Rhysie, Handsome Jack doesn’t BEG for anything. Except the occasional sweet piece of ass and then, if we’re being honest, it’s usually the other way around with the whole begging thing. Cuz I’m, you know, Handsome Jack. And Handsome Jack. Does not. Beg. Cupcake.” Rhys backpedaled; hands held defensively before him as he found himself, surprise surprise, backed again into a wall. He needed to better analyze that weird pile of rocks in the middle of the room, he was sure of it.

“What the hell Jack, do you want me to like…scratch your back or something? I need to focus, damn it! I know you obviously don’t give two craps about if I get out of here or not but I’m gonna have to like…eat and drink and sleep and I honestly won’t last too long in here without those things.”

“Just DO SOMETHING OR I’M GONNA-,”

“JESUS, JACK I SWEAR,” Rhys’ hands were raised and were on Jack’s forearms and he was pushing but Jack wasn’t budging. He was, in fact, groaning, and the sound was not something Rhys had been prepared to hear. All at once everything was too much; Rhys had to pee and his stomach was growling and Jack was groaning in his ear so close and Rhys could feel the warmth of the hologram’s skin beneath his hand-

Just as surely as Jack was somehow getting off on being manhandled, Rhys fainted. His eyes rolled up into his head, his mouth went slack, and his legs crumbled beneath him, leaving him in a smooshed-up heap of gangly limbs and robotic pieces. For a few moments (a very few couple of moments because Handsome Jack HATED silence) there was nothing; Rhys’ breathing was shallow and barely audible even in the quiet and Jack hunkered down on his haunches to get a better look at the pile of kid in front of him. 

OoOoOoO

For a brief moment as Jack stared at the definitely unconscious Rhys-pile, he wondered if he had over-reacted to the feeling of the kid’s hand on his arm, and the force he’d used to try and shove Jack out of his way. With lips pursed Jack regained his footing, and stood with his hip cocked to the side, digital arms crossed in front of a digital chest and digital eyes staring with something between disdain and arousal at the non-digital collapsed man in front of him. It had been quite a while since he had seen the man; for all he had known from his time without time, floating aimlessly in the dark, it had could have been eons. Handsome Jack feared nothing, of course, but being trapped there, aware, awake, in the dark…it was not something he wanted to repeat.

As Jack contemplated whether or not it was his fault, directly or otherwise, that Rhys had passed out (he was leaning heavily towards the “directly” because, again, Handsome Jack here who WOULDN’T pass out at the chance to touch his arm?), he flickered. He froze, staring down at his crossed arms and holding his breath as he waited to see if- 

AGAIN, it happened again, and now he was beginning to panic a little. Jack knew very little about his current state of existence and as far as he knew, he only had control so far as the kid was concerned. The updates to Rhys’ software, a self-inflicted series of patches that were as impressive as they were ugly (and holy shit where they ugly), would take time for Jack to break down or bypass. This left him, then, in the uncomfortable and precarious position of being tied to the currently passed out sack of meat on the floor. Hell, Jack wasn’t even sure how he’d been rewired in, with the current set up Rhys had going on. Until he could figure out where his uplink back into Rhys had originated from, he would have trouble knowing where he was, which meant that figuring out his way around Rhys’ head would take longer than it had before when he’d been uploaded directly into the kid’s great big noodle.

Which _also_ meant that this whole “flickering out of known existence” bullshit was both looming and troublesome. The forcefully-retired Hyperion CEO chewed on his digital lip as he contemplated the idiot before him and tried, certainly not for the first time, to think of why the kid was so goddamn familiar. He had seen him before, interacted with him in some way or in some fashion and Jack was absolutely certain of it. There hadn’t been time, or really any kind of interest, in figuring out where he knew the kid from when he’d first appeared in Rhys’ head, but some curious, nagging, irritatingly impossible to determine _thing_ in the back of his mind was telling him that it was absolutely essential that he remember. Jack wondered where the limitations with his current state of affairs was; just how much “Jack” was he?

A soft and most assuredly pained groan floated up from the floor and Jack was once again distracted. He had ceased to flicker for the moment and though he was certain that that had to do with Rhys slowly coming back to consciousness, that same uncomfortable reminder in the back of his head continued to insist that there was something more important going on than Jack’s current housing crisis.

The handsome yet incorporeal Jack crouched down low next to Rhys, cupping his chin in his hand and waiting as patiently as he was able to wait. That is to say, not at all.

“Wake UP, kid,” He mumbled, just loud enough to be heard in the overwhelming silence of the warm cave. Silence was, and had always been, uncomfortable. It meant something was brewing or changing or stirring and was almost always a signal of betrayal on the horizon. It was, therefore, something he loathed and attempted to disrupt at any and all opportunities.

Rhys groaned louder and shifted slightly on the hard floor and before he could think about it, Jack reached out for Rhys’ arm and was instantly enraged when his hand went through Rhys’ skin with no resistance whatsoever. He’d been seized by the urge to help Rhys, to make his misery less so, and while there was a part of him almost thankful that he’d been incapable of following through (why the hell did he care of the idiot was all bruised up and bleeding from faceplanting onto rough rock?), Jack was mostly furious that he could not seem to initiate contact between them.

“Jack…” The hologram snapped back to attention and sneered down at the pile of Rhys.

“Yeah, pumpkin? You doin’ alright down there? Having a nice little nappy-wappy?” His voice sounded different, less sarcastic and more genuine than he thought he was feeling, and it threw him for a moment. Was he going crazy or did he actually feel real, genuine, concern for the guy?

OoOoOoO

Rhys was aware that Jack had responded to him with some sort of amusing quip but, really, all he could focus on was the horrible roiling sensation occurring in the middle of his guts.

“I think I’m gonna-,” His sentence was punctuated by a heave that brought forth little more than bile from an empty stomach. Rhys groaned as his belly cramped painfully and his body attempted to purge the nothing he had in his stomach. He curled in on himself when it seemed the cramping had eased and the spasms in his gut ceased. The pain was still there, hot and dull and waiting in the background for, perhaps, another round later. But after a couple of moments, during which Jack had managed to keep his mouth shut, Rhys was able to pull himself into a sitting position and scoot back against the wall to support his new seated position. He was breathing heavily and was fighting the urge to cry. The air had changed around them; Rhys was genuinely frightened and Jack (plunked squarely in Rhys’ subsystems and completely aware of Rhys’ fear) was unsure of how to respond.

“Well that was a bag of dicks,” Rhys managed weakly after a few minutes had ticked quietly by. 

“Sure seemed like it! That ever happen to you before, kiddo?” Rhys’ eyes narrowed and his head cocked to the side as a wave of suspicion washed over him.

“Did I hit my head on the way down, Jack, or was that genuine concern I heard just now?”

“Hey hey don’t get all weepy-eyed; your stupid brain is the only thing keeping me conscious right now, am I right? So, if you go dying in here, I’m probably stuck in that rotting head of yours.” Rhys rolled his eyes but let it go; for whatever reason, he had the feeling that Jack was mostly telling him the truth. His initial instinct to respond was to say, ‘No I’ve never passed out before in my life and if you try and make a southern belle jest about my current state of affairs I will crush my own skull,’ but he paused instead and allowed the question to simmer. Obviously injecting Jack into his skull had caused him to pass out but the vomiting and intense nausea and gut pain was entirely new. The closest he could remember ever in his life feeling this awful and this sick was when he’d caught a bug (no, it was literally a bug that the Hyperion research floor had created in an attempt to revamp germ warfare) and had to be rushed to the Helios hospital to stop his imminent death. The dizziness was persistent, though his insides had finally calmed and left him feeling shaky but overall okay. 

After a couple minutes of silent thinking, Rhys laid his head back against the warm walls of the cave and gently shook his head side to side.

“Naw, I’ve never had anything quite like that. It was like… like I was falling. I’ve been sick before and passed out a couple of times but that was…different.” Jack nodded and began to pace away from Rhys, hands linked behind his back as he moved. Neither man spoke for several minutes, both apparently lost in their own thoughts as options and ideas circulated. Before long, Rhys found himself starting to doze off; the cavernous room was positively womb-like and the Atlas CEO had never felt so comfortable or safe or warm in his life. And while this was a curious feeling to have in the room where he was probably going to die, it didn’t stop the truth of it. The room was beginning to grow hazy (or were his eyes refusing to focus?) and Rhys was having a harder and harder time opening his eyelids each time they dropped.

“Hey hey hey, wake up kiddo, now’s not the time to nap.” Rhys blearily stared at the hovering Jack who was halfway between glaring and trying to be stern and Rhys chuffed in response, eyes already drifting closed.

“You think I’m joking around, cupcake?” Rhys yelped as Jack’s face appeared in front of his own. The digital reconstruction of the former Hyperion ruler was as terrifying up close as Rhys had always known it would be but unfortunately, he had never been prepared for how…well…handsome he would be. Sure, the posters and the vids and the various pieces of propaganda that he may or may not have gone to special lengths to purchase had always emphasized the man’s rugged features but up close and in person-

“Yoooooo hoooo you done staring, sweet cheeks? Listen, find a way out of here and I will give you a 100% authentic, bona-fide AUTOGRAPH, now how does that sound?” Rhys didn’t answer, couldn’t answer as a matter of fact. Didn’t even seem vaguely interested in the fact that Jack cared if he died here. His eyes were glued to Jack’s face and before he could even contemplate why or if it was even a good idea in his hazy head, Rhys’ flesh hand was rising and settling against Jack’s cheek. Jack’s eyes flicked over to Rhys’ arm and then to the man’s face where multi-tonal eyes met multi-tonal eyes. 

“Jesus Kiddo, you are burning up, ya know that?”

“You sound so soft, Jack, and your face is-,” Jack rolled his eyes and retreated from Rhys’ hand, leaving the younger man looking and feeling bereft. Judging by the clouded look in Rhys’ eyes and the fact that he had a fever of 104 (thank you VERY much, internal sensors), Jack was certain that something was very wrong. He also wasn’t sure how much more help the kid was going to be in engineering his own escape. Whatever the hell was wrong had come on strong and sudden; Jack still wasn’t sure what was going on but it did _not_ bode well for his chances of de-corporealization.

“How long have we been in here, Kiddo?”

“Forever, Jack, just the two of us.” Jack turned around, half a dozen smartass retorts at the tip of his tongue and was immediately blown backwards at the look on Rhys’ dumb face. Rhys’ lips were parted and damp, as though he had just run his tongue over it. His cheeks and forehead and throat were flushed, and Jack could practically see how hard Rhys’ heart was pounding by the pulse in his neck. Beads of sweat were gathering at Rhys’ thoroughly mussed hair and was, overall, looking positively and thoroughly-

Jack was pretty sure that, had he an actual flesh-and-blood body, he would be pretty fucking turned on.

As it was, Jack could feel something short-circuiting in his existence and was having a hard time telling if it was the uncomfortably appetizing young man on the ground or whatever was going on in said young man’s head.

Something jolted in Jack’s own head and he groaned, hands going up to grasp at something that didn’t actually exist. He grunted and dropped to a knee, finding it harder and harder as the moments passed to keep himself visible. He was hit suddenly by a wave of force that knocked him to his digital ass. It took him several seconds to realize that what he had been hit with had originated from Rhys himself. It took him several more seconds to realize that the “force” he’d been hit with was…

It sounded insane even to him, but the force was the overwhelming feeling of disorientation, with vague notes of panic underpinning it all. Worse yet, they were not feelings coming from him. Still seated, Jack directed a gaze filled with shock and surprise and a hint of awe as he stared at the heavily-breathing young CEO on the ground in front of him.

“What the fu-,” Jack’s voice grew metallic and rasping as though his vocal cords had been replaced with a set of grinding gears. Everything was disintegrating too quickly for Jack to even begin to get a handle on it. Every internal alarm was sounding and he was too overwhelmed by the sheer amount of internal input he was receiving to focus on any of them. His vision grew fuzzy and he had just enough time to reflect on how stupid this whole thing was before Handsome Jack, and subsequently Rhys, knew no more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed at all, please let me know! Thank you so much!!


End file.
